


Day Seven: Bodyswap

by TobytheWise



Series: 2018 Kinktober [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobytheWise/pseuds/TobytheWise
Summary: “Oh my god,” Stiles murmurs from beside him, only the voice is all wrong. Yet the flail that follows it is completely distinguishable as only Stiles. His arms and wrists flick back and forth between the two of them and Derek internally winces, hoping he doesn’t dislocate Derek’s wrists with all that movement. “I’m you and you’re me. What even? This is not happening.” Stiles touches his face. “I have stubble. I have honest to god stubble right now. Oh my god. Can I wolf out?”“Stiles,” Derek groans.“Stop it, Derek. My face does not look good like that. I don’t have murder brows like you so you just look constipated right now.”“Just get in the fucking car, Stiles. We need to go see Deaton.” With the witch dead, hopefully Deaton will know how to fix this.





	Day Seven: Bodyswap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NadiaHart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiaHart/gifts).



“Fuck!” Derek yells. Then he freezes because that was not his voice. “What the hell,” he stutters out, body frozen and tense. 

He looks over at Stiles but freezes again. Because beside him is not Stiles anymore. Instead, HE stands there, staring back at him with a panicked look on his face.

“Derek?” his own face says.

“What the fuck is going on?” Derek demands, looking down at his body only to realize that he’s wearing red skinny jeans and a black v neck. Shit. He looks at his hands, which are not his hands. The long, skinny fingers flex when Derek tells them to but he knows these hands, have fantasized about them enough to know without a doubt that they belong to Stiles.

“Oh my god,” Stiles murmurs from beside him, only the voice is all wrong. Yet the flail that follows it is completely distinguishable as only Stiles. His arms and wrists flick back and forth between the two of them and Derek internally winces, hoping he doesn’t dislocate Derek’s wrists with all that movement. “I’m you and you’re me. What even? This is not happening.” Stiles touches his face. “I have stubble. I have honest to god stubble right now. Oh my god. Can I wolf out?”

“Stiles,” Derek groans. 

“Stop it, Derek. My face does not look good like that. I don’t have murder brows like you so you just look constipated right now.”

“Just get in the fucking car, Stiles. We need to go see Deaton.” With the witch dead, hopefully Deaton will know how to fix this.

~~~

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

Stiles’ hands stop for a moment, before going right back to groping his pecs. Derek’s pecs. 

“Stiles. Keep your hands off!”

“Shhhh.” 

Derek feels his face flush as he watches his own body grope himself. It’s truly a sight he wishes he’d never have to see. 

“Scott,” Derek says through gritted teeth but only makes Stiles’ voice sound like a whine. “Tell Stiles to stop touching my body!”

Scott looks between the two of them. Then the traitor shrugs. “I can’t tell him anything. It’s your body, you tell him.”

Derek rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair as they wait for Deaton.

“You’re body is just so ripped, Derek. It’s unfair. If this is the only time I get free reign to touch then I’m gonna take advantage.”

Stiles begins running his hands up and down his biceps, squeezing them occasionally. It’s just so fucking weird!

“It feels like a violation. You don’t see me groping your body right now.”

“Alright, gentlemen. It seems there’s nothing I can do to change you back,” Deaton says as he walks into the room, nose still in the book he’s been reading. Derek’s heart sink. “You’ll both be back in your own bodies once the spell wears off. I give it twenty four hours max.”

Stiles stands up, a giant smile on his face which looks so out of place on Derek’s face. “Sweet. I think I’ll go home and take a shower,” he says gleefully.

“Stiles. No.” Derek grunts out. This is so unfair. How is this his life?

“How is this our lives?” Scott echoes his thoughts out loud. 

“You jealous, Scotty? Wishing you could be inside all of that,” Stiles says, waving his hands around towards were Derek stands. 

Derek’s arm cross over his chest. “This is bullshit. You’re planning on going home and molesting my body without permission.”

Stiles’ entire body tenses up as he freezes. He turns towards Derek with wide eyes. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and Derek’s glad he never acts like that because it looks incredibly idiotic on his face.

“I-” Stiles starts. Then he shakes his head vigorously. “No. I would never do that, Derek. I’m sorry for all the joking around. I didn’t mean-”

Derek feels himself soften under Stiles’ panic. He wishes desperately he could smell of the emotions passing through the other boy along with his usual addictive scent. 

“Let’s just go home, guys,” Scott mutters, breaking him and Stiles from their little stare off. They both nod their heads, heading towards the car. 

~~~

After explaining everything to the rest of the pack, Derek’s decides to hide out in his room. It’s so strange not being able to hear his pack from here but hopefully all of this will be resolved by the morning. 

There’s a gentle tap on the door before Stiles walks into the room, his head bowed towards the floor. “Can I hide out in here too? The pack keeps wanting to snuggle and sniff me. Then tell me how I smell all wrong and weird. Normally I would be up for cuddles but today’s been kind of a weird and rough day. Ya know?” Derek nods his head. “Are you saying yes to me hanging out in here or yes you understand that I’ve had a rough day?”

Derek rolls his eyes. His body has said more words today than it has in the last year. “Yes, you can stay in here.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Awesome.” He flops down on the other side of Derek’s bed, burying his face in Derek’s pillow. “Oh fuck,” Stiles murmurs. 

“What?”

Stiles groans, keeping his nose buried in Derek’s pillow and Derek can hear him taking sniff after sniff. “I can fucking smell you, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek says automatically. Then he realizes that Stiles is literally sniffing his stuff, and by the way his hips are moving against the bed it’s turning him on. Fuck.

“Stiles,” Derek says in a stilted voice, his own cock starting to stir. When he looks down at his lap, his cock grows from mild interest to full blown hard when he realizes this is Stiles’ cock getting hard. 

Stiles scrambles to sit up, flailing slightly on his way to upright. He stares at Derek with wide, alpha red eyes. “I can’t control myself, Derek,” Stiles pants. He grits his teeth, holding his hands out as they slowly grow claws. “I can smell you. I can smell that you’re turned on right now. Fuck.”

Watching Stiles lose control like that, just from Derek’s smell and arousal causes warmth and lust to mix in Derek’s belly. “Breathe, Stiles,” Derek whispers. “Just focus on me. Focus on my breathing, in and out. Listen to the beat of my heart.”

Stiles’ eyes bore into Derek’s chest, focusing on each beat of Derek’s heart. His breathing slowly becomes regular until his claws retract and his eyes fade back to Derek’s green hazel color.

“Better?” Derek asks gently, running his thumb against Stiles’ wrist.

“I think so. Sorry about that.” Stiles’ face has a sheepish blush on his cheeks and Derek isn’t sure he’s ever seen his face with a blush like that.

“It’s fine. It takes a lot of control for new werewolves. But you anchored yourself so quickly. I’m proud of you.”

Stiles’ face breaks out in a small smile. “I didn’t anchor myself, Derek. You anchored me.”

Derek looks down at where their hands are touching. It feels so perfect, so right. “Can I kiss you?” Derek whispers.

When Derek looks up, Stiles looks pained as he says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Right,” Derek says, taking his hand away. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Derek.” Stiles’ voice pulls him from his pity party. “I just mean we shouldn’t until we’re in our own bodies. I don’t think I can control myself if we actually touched like that. And I’d rather not impale my body with these claws if I can help it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” The Stiles’ smile turns mischievous. “But we could do things without actually touching.”

Stiles immediately pulls his shirt off. He slowly runs his hands over his chest, gently tugging at Derek’s chest hair. “I’ve dreamed of touching you like this for so long. Go on. I know you wanna give my body some lovin’.”

Derek looks down at Stiles’ gorgeous fingers before pulling his shirt off too. They’re both sitting cross legged across from each other. Derek touches Stiles smooth chest. He tweaks a nipple, gasping at how sensitive they are. “I can’t wait to play with these once we’re back in our own bodies. They’re so sensitive. I bet I could have you writhing and begging just from playing with these.”

Stiles moans as he watches Derek. “Yes. Want that.” 

Derek moves lower, playing with the hair that leads from Stiles’ belly button down to beneath his jeans. Anytime Stiles stretches, Derek has greedily taken this treasure trail in and now he finally gets to touch it.

“You’re so ripped, Derek,” Stiles groans, touching Derek’s tight stomach.

“Pants off?” Derek asks.

Stiles vigorously nods, scrambling to take his off. He only kicks Derek once in his mad dash. 

“Idiot,” Derek murmurs with a fond smile, shaking his head.

Stiles begins to reverently touch Derek’s calves and then thighs, taking his time to squeeze each muscle. 

Derek feels the soft hairs that line Stiles’ legs. He wishes he could bury his nose in the crease of Stiles’ legs and take in the scent of Stiles’ sex but that will have to wait until next time.

Stiles makes a whining noise that sounds so fucking out of place coming from Derek’s body. “Can I please take these boxers off?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Now they’re both naked, staring at each other. Stiles’ eyes begin to bleed alpha red again. Derek watches with pride as Stiles closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. When he opens them again the red is gone.

“So. Uncut, huh?” Stiles says, staring down at Derek’s dick. 

“Mhmm,” Derek hums with a smile. “Play with the foreskin. It feels amazing.”

Stiles’ moan makes Derek’s cock twitch with precome as Stiles plays with the foreskin between his fingers. Derek wraps his hand around his erection, loosely stroking himself. He takes in the long length of Stiles’ dick and thinks about how it would hit his prostate so good if it were inside him.

“Fuck, Derek. I can’t wait to nibble on this skin and making you shake with pleasure.”

Derek tightens his fingers, grunting in pleasure. The sound of Stiles’ pleasured sounds leaving his throat turns Derek on even more. 

“Twist your wrist at the top. Feels so good,” Stiles murmurs, beginning to stroke himself. His eyes are lidded with pleasure and his cheeks are flushed.

Derek twists his wrist on his upstroke just like Stiles suggested. It feels amazing and he already feels his orgasm approaching quickly.

“You ever play with you ass?” Derek asks between pants.

Stiles nods his head, eyes wide as they look at Derek. “Can I touch yours?” Stiles sounds so hesitant, afraid of rejection as he asks.

“Yeah. Go ahead. Spread your legs so I can watch.”

Stiles leans back slightly and parts his legs until Derek’s dusty hole becomes visible under his heavy balls. The view of Stiles gingerly touching his hole should be weird but instead it makes Derek’s insides feel like molten lava. 

“Touch my hole, Derek. Wanna see,” Stiles pants out.

Derek uses spit on his finger before bringing it down to his hole. He gently touches it, surprised by how sensitive Stiles’ ass is. Derek throws his head back and moans as he breaches his ass. His other hand moving rapidly up and down his cock. 

“Fuck. Your ass is so fucking sensitive. I’m gonna try to make you cum with just my tongue when we’re switched back.”

“Oh fuck!” Stiles cries. Derek watches Stiles finger his ass and it’s all too much. Derek cries out as he comes across his belly.

“Derek,” Stiles grits through clenched teeth as he comes as well. Ropes of thick cum erupting from Derek’s cock and littering his treasure trail. 

“Holy shit. We are definitely doing that again once we’re switched back,” Stiles declares as he flops back onto Derek’s bed.

Derek grabs his tee shirt, using it to wipe his belly and then Stiles’. “Can I be the big spoon?” Stiles asks. “I have a feeling I’ll be the little spoon once I’m in my own body.”

Derek huffs with amusement. “Alright.”

They snuggle with Stiles tight against his back. Stiles clears his throat as he pulls Derek tight. “Just for the record, I love you, Sourwolf.”

Derek can’t stop the giant smile from splitting his face. He laces his fingers with Stiles’, whispering back, “love you too, idiot.”


End file.
